Here the Rain is Falling
by Taayluur
Summary: My name is Edward Elric. I am fifteen years old. I am in the Hunger Games, and I am going to win.
1. Chapter 1

_My heart is beating out of my chest, and I desperately shake the peace-keepers who cease hold of me, but their grip is like cold steel. My mind reels, and Greed's horrible imitation of the girl from district 12 runs through my mind, "I volunteer!" But this time,_

_I_ _am the one saying it._

* * *

><p>It is days like these where the fresh smell of oil and the static of machines running smoothly can not ease my nerves. Now, the only thing clear to me is how Winry-like my last thought just sounded, and how I couldn't hack into the Capitol's database earlier, much less disable their firewall. Al is worried, of course, that they will find a way to trace it back. I doubt this though.<p>

In a place like District 3, one had to have their smarts about time, or so help me die.

I don't like the Capitol's heavy occupation here in District 3. Never mind, I hate the Capitol. They've been sticking their noses in my research in Chemistry and Physics, suggesting I get a state license for my advancement in those field. I'm many thing, but I, Edward Elric, am not stupid. Aware of what the capitol, painted faces and forced smiles, does, and I hate it with all my being.

Which is a lot to say for me. I'm generally a nice guy, ask anyone. Granny says it's not in me hate anyone.

_Granny, _I sigh. She must be more worried than Alphonse and Winry combined. I continued to pace through the District, old pieces of ash still clinging to the bottom of my ebony combat boots. I rip my eyes away from the ash. I look up to the sky for refuge, but find none.

Despite its current run down state, I love District 3. After all, it's my home, but one thing I hate most amount it is the sky. It isn't bright blue, like I've seen on TV. It's full of gray clouds, with the sun peaking past it, offering its rays. It always looks like it's going to rain, but hardly ever does. It just looks like... it needs to let it out.

It's just another thing I push back in my mind.

I swear some where in my distant memories I've seen blue skies, but it must have been before the Dark Days of Panem. Before the rebellion when mom was still alive and Hohenheim (_Father? _There's a joke I haven't heard in while) wasn't completely M.I.A., and the ever-oppressive Capitol, who does not grasp the any morals of patience and acceptance, hold was not as strong as it is now.

Ever since District 13 was wiped off the map of Panem (so most believe), All _we_ever did was fear the Capitol, and we've been watching our nation's children been thrown into an arena to fight to the death, to remind us why the Capitol should be fears.

The only thing I hate more than the Hunger Games is my own uselessness, because I know I can't stop it.

The affects of the what became known as the "Dark Days" showed on District 3. Most of our labs and factories had been hollowed out to their skeletons. Most of the houses in the central part of the District (where I lived) where in something that a few citizens dubbed "The Volt."The houses, modern and boxy, but far from luxuries, had been reduce to rubble, or chunks of them were slowly break away. Ash still lined the streets, and the Capitol and it's affiliates hadn't bother to make an effort re-building.

The Justice Building, which was at the end of a street that jutted out from the Volt like a _T, _had remained completely untouched, completely finished in fine marble. The rebels never took it over, and the Capitol dare not destroy it's most precious symbol of power. Their symbol is carved on the bronze doors.

"Beautiful scenery, eh?"

Chills run down my spine when I hear the familiar, cold voice down my neck. I quickly decide nothing says hello like giving a friend a nice metal-fist to the face.

"Easy there, Fullmetal, and with your metal hand, too?" Greed says calmly, catching my fist in front of his face. He calls me a teasing name he uses to refer to my metal prosthetics and several other qualities about me Greed never let elaborated on. "It's not very polite."

The devious smile on Greed's face, showing off his pointed teeth, only faces me frown. I pull the hood of my bright red coat over my head. "You shouldn't be out here." I grumble, only because it's true. Peace-keepers may be dumb asses, but they can match his face to the wanted posters all over Panem.

"I hate to admit, pipsqueak, but you're right."

"I'm not a pipsqueak!" I hiss. I would love to knock his head clean off his body, but I don't think the Peace-keepers would exactly approve.

"Lighten up will ya?" Greed says as he strolls away from the center of the square, and approaches to the nearest store front, one titled _Nuts & Bolts. _His fingers pass along a sign on the front window. It is his wanted poster. It sports his face,his real name, and his devilish grin, but it most notably is titled. _Wanted: Dead or Alive_. "God, I look awful in this picture."

I raise an eyebrow. "If you ask me Greed," I say. I don't use his real name, only Greed, using his name would snap a few unwanted heads my way. "You have bigger problems to worry about than how good you look in that picture."

"If you get caught, I'm sure the punishment for leaking Capitol files and trying to assassinate President Bradley isn't light. Dead or Alive." I add.

He gives me a pointed glare. "Thanks for announcing it to the world, bastard."

Okay, maybe I was an idiot... _sometimes. _

We silence ourself when we see peacekeepers come near, and process into a different part of the District, without the big city noise and closer to the border.

Greed's a Capitol deserter. You can tell if you get close enough. He had unconventionally long hair, like myself. He didn't have bright tattoos, apart for one on the back of his hand, or dyed skin, but his eyes were unnaturally slit and purple and his teeth were pointed. Obviously Capitol procedures.

We slip into a dark alley, avoiding the Peace-keepers prying eyes. We slip down the alley farther, until we reach the end of District 3. It is an electric fence that divide's District 1 from 3, but there is no trace of District 1's existence for miles. We know this is the only place Greed and I can talk in _real _privacy. Not even Jabber jays would follow us here.

It doesn't take long for me to do so, but I disable the electric fence. I use my automail hand to expand the barb-wire, and we venture out into the wild's for about a mile until we reach an open clearing. It gets colder towards District 1, and it is still daylight, so I know it safe to start a fire.

As gather wood from fallen branches, I talk to Greed. "Any news from the shadow world.

"District 13 still exists." Greed replies, shrugging.

I know I should be shocked, but Greed and I have had a theory for the past couple years. "So, the underbelly of the Mockingjay? You picked up on it as well." I say, dropping the branches in front of me.

Greed scratches the back of his head, grimacing. "Once or twice. The lady who did the report this morning? from District 13? She's an old friend of mine."

I know that Greed did not have any friends, or at least didn't call them friends. He called them 'possessions' rather. I re-examine his words and catch eye of _that_ smile on his face. "My god, Greed! Please spare me," I pause to swallow the upcoming barf in my esophagus. "I don't need to know about all your fucking affairs!"

"Oh yeah, I forgot. You're just a kid." Greed folds his hands, and looks up at me with a smile that's too wide for my taste.

I scowl, and throw one of the branch at him. He keenly avoids. "I'm not just some kid, Greed. If your really going the play the age card with me, then get the hell out of my sight. I'm sure the Capitol is dying to know where you are."

"And with the information I've given you, they'll kill you too, and everyone you hold dear. They stole my possessions, Ed. They'll take yours. They're not exactly above killing Children."

I stop what I am doing, and Greed takes notice.

"Your worried about the reaping aren't you?"

I throw match onto the pile of wood, and a fire ignites. "Terrified." I mutter.

"I'm not exactly surprised. Death's a scary thing. I should know, me and that old coot are next door neighbors now."

"It's not exactly me I'm worrying about."

Greed's body relaxes and he rolls his eyes. "You know Alphonse is just as an adapt fighter as you if not _better. _You bother can defend yourselves, and offend against enemies. Not to mention you two are scientists. You can probably whip up some bomb thing, and wipe out the entire arena. I'd say District 3 has a chance."

"I'm not killing anyone for the Capitol."

Greed raises an eyebrow, because he knows if I were in the Hunger Games. I would do whatever it takes to come out alive.

Damn that bastard for knowing me so well...

"What do the tributes look like this year?" I ask. I finally relax enough to sit on the log across from Greed.

"Glad you asked actually. They're an interesting lot. I might actually get entertained by mindless murder." Greed's smile doesn't fade when he sees my glare. "A brother and sister from 1, Careers. The girl has unmistakable bloodlust in her eyes. The boy's muscles are impossibly large. Two Careers from 2. The girl was trained to protect the male. It's borderline freaky. The guy kinda looks like me. A little girl, roughly twelve, from 4. Such a shame, she's strong, but scared for her life. Another little boy from 9, creepy-looking, like from a horror movie. Hot chick and a blubber-beast from 7. And from 12..." Greed whistled the whistle that meant rock-bottom.

I lift my head, and raise an eyebrow in his direction. "What about 12?"

I know that District 12 is one of the most despised and poorest district in all of Panem. It is were they mine coal, and the most teresseas are drawn from there. Their tributes were always the least adept for battle, because they were not trained in the mines until seventeen. Only the men went into the mines as well. Many had lost fathers in mining accidents, so their families could not be supported. They were fragile when they went in the arena. District 12 members never made it past the blood-bath in the cornucopia.

"It's nothing. I just can't believe some blonde chick volunteered from there."

People volunteered often for the games, but from_ 12_... it's a surprise to say the very least. I simply stare at Greed, my face blank.

"I think the boy who was picked first was a lover or something. Talk about touching. Jeez, the word's that came out of her mouth," Greed batters his eyelashes, and clasps his hands next his face. "_Mustang, you idiot! _Out come the peacekeepers, _I volunteer. _Then, dead silence."

I whistle. The girl is an idiot. "She's a fool," I repeat. "The best thing she could do for him is stay alive outside the arena, not join him for suicide."

"I don't know, Ed. Don't underestimate your opponents. District 3 may not be the only one with a chance this year."

"Al and I are not going to be in the Hunger Games."

"I'll be seeing around, Fullmetal." Greed says, slamming his hands to his knees as he got up.

"And where the hell do you think your going?" I ask, scowling.

"District 1's only a couple miles away is it not? Land of Luxury, I think I might find myself some concubines."

As I recall the meaning of that word, my face turns bright red and more bile forms in my throat. "The fuck! Greed! Ever heard of modesty!"

"Yep, I just don't put into practice." He says with a final wave.

* * *

><p>The Reaping is first thing the next day, and I question why we get dressed to watch children get slaughtered.<br>I searched for Alphonse's face in the crowd. He is roped off from me, with his proper age group- fourteen. He casts me a reassuring smile, that does kind of reassure me. Alphonse had that talent, to make people feel warm around him. I look at the group of girls of my age, 15, and give Winry Rockbell, my mechanic, a very weak smile. I know it's extremely forced. Winry probably knows me well enough to see that.

Peace-keepers line the back of the stage in front of us, and line the crowd. I think they look like their from another planet in their white uniform, their too modern, even for the people of District 3. Then again, anything from the capitol was just plain freaky.

A woman from the Capitol steps up on the stage, well, she trips a few times, but it's understandable considering she's wearing 8 inch heels. Once the woman, stumbles toward the mike, she readjust her sequined glasses, and speaks to the lot of children awaiting probable death. "Welcome everyone!" She says in a welcoming tone. I've always known this woman to be Cheska, who does the games every year my name has been in the reaping. "Today, we will chose one very brave man and daring young woman to represent District 3 in the sixth annual Hunger Games, now without further hesitation, Let us begin this year's reaping."

When her hand drops in the bowl, every heart beat in the square picks up, and become one collective heartbeat, ringing in my ears. Gradually become faster, faster, faster until-

_"Alphonse Elric."_

My heart stops completely.

When I see Alphonse being taken away from me and I can't think. Actually, I don't think at all. Before my mind even registers what I'm doing. I'm pushing down everyone in crowd, running after my brother. "Al! Wait!"

I run straight into the peace-keepers. "No! You have to stop! He's my little brother!" They don't listen, they can't. I try to break away from their grasp but they're grip is like steel. "You can't take him away! He's all I have left. He's my little brother!" I yell, my voice cracking.

Greed's horrible imitation of the girl from 12 runs through my head. "I volunteer!"

But this time I am the one saying.  
>The next moment is a blur. Pinako is ripping Alphonse away from the peace-keepers, and his pleading screams is the only sound in the dead silence. Yet, it sounds like it's miles away. Peace keepers escort me onto the stage, and Cheska putts her arm around the other hand circling my back. "Well, a volunteer!" She cries, though I tune her one. "And what your name be my fine young man?"<p>

"Edward Elric." I choke out, my voice strained from my screams.

"Edward Elric. Such a handsome young boy." She cooes, nudging my chin. "With bravery like, yours District 3 might have themselves a winner. If you please. . . " She gestures to a spot on the stage, and I do as she bids me.

As I am walking their, I don't feel like myself, like I'm not in my own body. My head is disoriented, like I'm walking a movie that's just all-too-real.

It only becomes worse when Cheska calls out the next name.

"_Winry Rockbell._" 

* * *

><p><em>When I write X-overs crossing over characters of one world into another, I try to adopt a voice similar to the original author(s), as I attempted in "A Heart Made Fullmetal." I just feel this makes it feel more authentic.<em>

_Keep notes that there must be slight changes in one's character. Edward, normally, would never kill anyone he considered human. Even if forced. Some, though proven good in the series, will kill others they may be friends with in the series. Some of their blood-lust can be heightened (for example, Olivier could easy be (a much saner) Kimblee) .Keep in mind, they do not have these bonds in the series. Automail exists. Few AU details._

I made them from District 3- which excels in Science (like Physics, which is an our world equivalent to Alchemy), and Mechanics (Winry's depot).

Sorry if you didn't get to see much back-story for our dear Edo-kun, but Ed will have dreams and flash-backs in the arena.

_**Review or I will kill-off everyone you love. **_


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Notes: Please take note that this is AU, so Winry and Ed are not as close as they were in the Manga/Anime/dash which ever you prefer. She is his mechanic, and they are friends. They make small talk sometimes, and occasionally argue. I also don't own the Hunger Games book, so I'm relying on memory alone. Oh, Cheska, where are you when I need you?_

I would compare it to being arrested really, but We are not handcuffed,nor are we restrained. The Peacekeepers force us into the Justice Building. They take the both of us, Winry and I, inside. As we move forward, I let my eyes fall on Winry's face, and examine her for any sign of emotion. Her face is hard, like she has aged twenty years in the last hour. I know that look, her eyes are burning, and she is about to cry. I don't stop her when the tears begin to hit the floor. Any consolation from me won't do any good.

As soon as we are pushed into the arena, we will be enemies.

I am pushed into a room, perhaps one of the most up-scale I've ever seen. With thick, deep carpet, and velvet couches and chairs. I'm only guessing, but I assume this is the time allotted for the tributes to say goodbyes to their loved ones. Frankly, I'm surprised they even allow such a thing. It's not in their nature to have sympathy. Ignoring that, I fall down onto the couch, and do my best to avoid my thoughts. __

Alphonse comes in first. Our gazes met, and his is hard and focused. He might be on the verge on breaking, crying even.

I rise from my spot in the velvet chair, and face. "Alphonse." I say, before he does something I don't expect:

He punches me. A collective gasp comes from the alarmed Peace-keepers at the door, as they scowl in either confusion or frustration.

"Brother! Why did you volunteer for me! Are you a complete idiot!"

"No way! I wasn't just going to let you die in the arena, and leave you behind!"

"That's exactly why you're an idiot!" He says, punching me once again. The Peace-keepers swallows, trying to hold their tongue. They're probably afraid of getting punched themselves. 

"What do you keep punching me like that for!" I ask, pressing my hand against my jaw. "If I didn't volunteer, you would have been killed!"

"And maybe I wouldn't have!" Alphonse yells. "Making the decision to die is something only a complete idiot does!"

"Hey easy on the idiot stuff! I'm still your older brother you know!"

"I'll say it all I want to!" He grabs my collar, dragging my face up to his. "Survive, Ed. You have to win, Ed. _You have too. _You can find a way to show the capitol that you're more than just a piece in their games, so you can come back alive! You can't do that by dying! I wouldn't allow to chose a meaningless death!" He says, his voice almost breaking. 

"Excuse me, sirs. You're time is almost up." One of the peace-keepers says to us, hesitating slightly, like Alphonse may rip one off his arms off.

"Oh great! And now, I have to leave, because my brother's a big fat idiot!"

My gaze falls to my shoes, and I mutter, "I'll win, Al. I promise you. I'll win."

A female peace-keeper puts her hand on Alphonse's solider, and offers a weak, forced smile, and Alphonse leaves with her.

Because of Alphonse, I have to win. I know, that I'll have to kill people to do it. I don't want to kill anyone, but it's survival of the fittest killed or be killed. My ideals are something I have to leave behind when I get into the arena. I have to make sure Alphonse doesn't starve. The money in our father's trust fund would run out in two years. Who would look after him? Pinako? I doubt it, considering the circumstances.

Winry floats into my mind. She's my mechanic, my friend. There are 24 of us and only one comes out. I shake my head. I can't allow myself to think of this now. I can't go out looking weak. I look to one of the peace-keepers, one who at least appears to posses emotions and ask, "Is there anyone else?"

He shakes his head, and leaves with the rest of the peace-keepers.

When they leave, I look away from the door, and burying my hands in my face, letting them slide into my hair. What am I going to do? It's not like I can wait the entire Hunger Games out. I'd starve. I don't want to admit it, but I know at some point I'll be forced to kill. I'll have to -

"That was touching reunion right there."

My head shots up, and my gaze falls on a dark figure in the corner of the room. "You think District 3 would have better security, but no. I had to squeeze through the vent system. Heh, but it'd be easy for you with you're small body. You could escape right now."

I know the person before he even comes into view, "These room are probably tapped, Greed. You should get out."

"And so should you." He says, gesturing to busted open vent.

"If I leave, they'll find me, and kill Al." I say.

He leans on one of the dressers in the room, and grins. "So, you're more smarter than I thought. You might want to watch that loose tongue in the arena though. Anything you say can be used against everyone you love."

Greed just telling me crap I already know, I fold my hands, and rest my chin in them. "Greed, I want you take Alphonse out of District 3 for a while. Don't return until I come back."

"And if you don't?"

"I _am_."

"Right, right," Greed says, waving his hand dismissively. "As soon as you get in the arena consider it done, if I do it know they'll immediately suspect you."

"Make it seem like their was struggle. Like he was kid-napped. The Capitol will be skeptical of whatever they hear."

"Yeah, I know the procedure, and don't worry on gaining sponsors. You already have pretty right here." He says, gesturing to himself. I'm assuming he has someone to do these kind of things for him. "Otherwise, I'll have my 'friends' in the capitol watching over you."

"I'm grateful." I reply, though I'm not sure if I'm sincere or not.

"Yeah, just one piece of advice," he says before departing.

"What's that?"

"Stay Alive."

"That's helpful." I mutter, but Greed's already gone by the time I say it.

It's a short ride from the Justice building to the train station. The place is already swamped with reporters, and I raised my mechanical arm to forehead, but I'd been wrong to do so. The reporters are already asking questions.

"Is that an automail prosthetic!"

"Edward Elric! How did you lose your arm!"

"What was it like going through such intense surgery and rehabilitation!"

"Have you brought you're mechanic to the capitol with you!"

When the last question catches my ear, I give Winry a warning look, and she nods back. I see that her face is still stained with tears. I force myself to jerk my head away. It's not smart to be crying at a moment like this. The other tributes, particularly the career will see you as fresh me.

We ignore the reports and shuffle into the train. When the time comes, I'm immediately blown back by it's speed. In District 3, Cars were uncommon, and I was ridden in very few before, but this speed, to me almost, seemed God-like. I know that the Capitol isn't far from three, only one district away. So, the ride must take a mere hour at most.

Just as I seem to be getting settled in my apartment, all haunting thoughts aside, Cheska calls me for supper, rapping on my door. I follow her through a shaky corridor, which causes her to trip a few times, and into the dining room, which is compartment with a single round table and polished walls.

I don't sit next to Winry, but I slide next to Cheska. Not quite sure where I stand with Winry at this point. I know that if I don't win, I want her too, though the possibility is slim. Though, we are not the only ones there. Izumi Curtis and Dominick, District 3's two victors from the past, are present as well.

Since they're have been only five hunger games so far, not all Districts had veterans to teach their tributes. Only Capitol officials who are supposed to be trained in the art of survival. 3 was one of the wealthier districts so It was no surprise that we'd have two veterans.

Dinner slips by quickly and we file into another compartment to watch the reaping across Panem. I look for the tributes Greed menoined.

First, they're is the brother in sister in 1. Careers and both volunteers. Usually, Volunteering is picky in those districts because they're are so many careers being trained for the games, but Nobody seems to stand in the way of the two, The girl from 1 looks fearless, and has a glare that can render they're opponents knees to jelly. The Male, who was only intimidating in size, not demeanor, was the largest teenager I had even laid eye's one, and had muscles that were twice the size of my head. I knew his face would be burned in mine forever.

As he stated, two careers from 2, and Greed was right, the boy, Ling, looked astonishing like him.

Then they show us, myself volunteering for my brother, the desperate plea in my eyes. Before I'm even getting to walking on stage, Winry takes the remote of the television set, and skips to the next district.

Most hauntingly, a twelve year old girl from 4 is called, _a career _district and there is no one willing to take her place.

Another twelve year old from 9, who appears to be possessed by the devil like Greed described, but the boy was still a child.

Then, there was twelve. This one, I actually play strict attention to.

The glass bowls which contain the tributes names are filled to the brim, probably due to the high terressae rations that are drawn there, because the mass of children seems a lot smaller than 3's. 12's escort drops his hands in the lot of male tributes and plucks out a single street of paper. She smoothes it out, and crisply and clearly reads, "Roy Mustang."

The camera focuses on a round-faced boy, with narrowed black eyes and long hair of the same color. The shock is only there briefly, before he washes it away and his face hardens. Before he makes it to the stage, the camera cuts to stir amongst the crowd, and a girl with short blonde hair and amber eyes tears through the crowd of children, and yells, "_I volunteer._"

Everyone looks unsure, like District 12 had not had a volunteer before (they had not). Roy Mustang's face pales, but he did not looked shocked in the slightest – like he saw this coming.

They are both on stage now with the escort, and the two glare at each other, having an entire conversation. It's something I don't understand, but appreciate because I do not.

Cheska cuts off the T.V., and says, "Well, you certainly stole her thunder."

I grunt, and say, "I don't think she did it for thunder."

Soon enough, Winry and I are divided to meet our mentors.

_Author's notes: I'll update next week. Chapter is so crappy. Don't remind me. _


	3. Chapter 3

A shuffle of footsteps. A clack of a door. A knife being thrown at my head. Izumi Curtis trying to kill me.

Just another day in the Life of Edward Elric.

I clap my hands in front of my face, catching the knife in my palms before it can impale me, and I duck before the end of my attacker's roundhouse kick can reach the side of my skull. I swiftly avoid it, backing away from the woman, as I dodge more blows- one after one.

"What the hell old, lady! You trying to kill me?" In the time it takes for my words escape my lips, I feel the strong impact of Izumi's heel pound me to the ground.

Izumi scowls, pushing her foot hard against my back. The cold steel of the compartment's floor stings my cheek, and I can't even mutter any audible words. "You didn't attack." Izumi says coldly. I can feel her glare on me, though I can't see it.

"And why did _you_ attack?" I yell, squirming under her firm grasp."Are you nuts?"

"A good warrior should never let their guard down, no matter what the case," Izumi replied as a matter of factly. "I was actually surprised to see that knife didn't permanently disfigure you."

"Yes, because getting a knife in your face doesn't hurt in the slightest." I groan, now able to lift my head from the ground.

"But you're an idiot," Izumi reminds me. I mentally add Izumi Curtis to the list of people that have called me that today. "You didn't fight back."

"Of course I didn't," Ed responds with a huff. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"You're too soft," Izumi says quickly, lifting her foot from my back. I bring myself to my feet, and notice the broken edge to her firm tone."That's not going to get you anywhere in the arena."

It's a bitter reminder, that I had to shoot to kill. I don't want to kill anyone, but I also have to a promise to keep. A place to get back home too, Izumi was right, I needed to toughen up. I'd be doing a lot more than just hurting people. My fists clench at my sides. Izumi notices.

"It was a noble thing you did," Izumi tells me, almost coming across as completely sane. "choosing to die in the place of someone you love."

"I'm not going to die." I spit back, dead serious. Nothing was stopping me from coming home to Alphonse, no matter how many odds would _never _be in my favor.

"I knew you'd say that." Izumi says with a huff.

"I must have look pathetic to you up on that stage," I say, dipping my head, "I looked _broken _when I went up there. The look in my eyes-"

"You call that broken?"

"I can't think of any other way to put it."

"I call it fire."

_Author's Notes: This story is face-paced generally, unlike the Hunger Games book preparations will not take up the entire first half of the fiction work. But this chapter, filler chapter fulfills its filler purposes. _

_Currently working out alliances, who to kill off, the winner. Mostly just choosing alliances. A new but familiar, lovable face makes an appearance next chapter. This chapter tough love, next chapter daughter photos :)_

_Expect an update in two weeks, if not less. **Maybe a title change**, because the theme of this story may end up having more to do with fire than rain._


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